


Okay, You're Kind of Sexy (But You're Not Really Special)

by afewreelthoughts



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blind Date, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 01:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17818817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afewreelthoughts/pseuds/afewreelthoughts
Summary: Ned Stark was the most boring man Cersei had ever met. If she could only stop thinking about him...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheEagleGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEagleGirl/gifts).



> (title from Ida Marie’s “I Like You So Much Better When You’re Naked for important reasons)

So this was her brother’s vengeance: a date with the most boring person alive. Cersei Lannister sat at dinner and rehearsed in her mind every argument she had ever had with Tyrion, every time she had insulted him and every time he had insulted her, and at the end of her calculations, she could not fathom what she’d done to deserve this. 

 

Her blind date, Ned, worked at a nature preserve, and that seemed to be all he was capable of talking about. How the direwolf population was doing this autumn. How “the longest winter ever was coming” because of global warming. Oh gods,  _did he think she cared?_

 

She had disliked him on first sight, when he had shown up for their date at a five-star restaurant in hiking boots, zip-off khaki shorts, and a polo shirt with WINTERFELL SANCTUARY embroidered on the lapel. Evidently a wide-brimmed hat had completed the look, but he had blessedly left that on the coatrack before she arrived. 

 

The worst part about his clothes was that he’d be quite attractive in civilized ones. He had a mess of brown hair, a beard that he had trimmed neatly along his square jaw, warm brown eyes, strong hands with long fingers, broad shoulders… She supposed looking at him was more interesting than listening to the mating habits of direwolves. 

 

Another reason she wasn’t quite listening was that small details about him kept bringing her back to things Robert had said about his friend Eddard, or Ned for short. Cersei hadn’t been paying attention back then, but bits and pieces of memories floated back to her, and she didn’t like being reminded of Robert. 

 

After all, plenty of men were named Ned. 

 

“May I ask why you’re talking so much about the animals?” she said, on her second glass of wine. "I mean, you’re practically the CEO, aren't you?"

 

“I’m not the CEO, it’s not a corporation,” Ned said. 

 

She rolled her eyes and gave him her best vapid smile. “I know  _that!_  I mean what’s the person running the place doing outside all day?" 

 

He smiled. “Everyone on our team spends time outside.” He shrugged. "I would have changed before coming here, but it was a long day, and I was told it would be okay to go straight to dinner? We needed to find a new mate for Griffon.” 

 

“Who’s Griffon?” she asked, because she knew he'd explain anyway. 

 

“He’s a direwolf who’s been lonely for too long. We’ve been working on finding him a new mate since his last one died. Most wolves, regardless of species, mate for life. Most people don’t know that."

 

“Really?” 

 

“Everyone else on the team is working on the dragons, so that kind of leaves me alone on - “

 

“Excuse me, dragons?” she said, setting down her empty glass. 

 

“Yeah, we got some dragon eggs a while back, and most of our time and resources are going towards seeing if we can hatch them. I don't think it's possible; they're so old..." 

 

And then he went into a long explanation of why dragon eggs couldn't be hatched if they were of a certain age, and Cersei hadn’t known any man could make the possibility of  _dragons_ boring. Even Robert had had some fire to him... too much fire, probably. 

 

“… and you don’t care, do you?” Ned said. 

 

“Wow, you’ve picked that up?” she said. "I don't really think too much about wild animals in my life." 

 

“We could talk about your work?” 

 

“I don’t want to.”

 

He looked properly sheepish for the first time all night.

 

“Have any of the Baratheons come by Winterfell?” she asked, feeling her pulse quicken for the worst reasons. 

 

“Yeah, Robert still comes by a lot, and Renly, too. I wish I saw Stannis more often, but I hear he’s busy."

 

“You know Robert?”

 

“Yeah, we’re old friends."

 

Cersei felt her stomach fall. “You’re  _that_ Ned? Eddard Stark?”

 

“Yeah, is that a problem?” 

 

“I’m Cersei Lannister. I was engaged to your best friend.” 

 

“Oh,” he said. “You look... different, from the couple of pictures he showed me. Not that he…” Ned cleared his throat.

 

“I’m not surprised,” Cersei said. “After all, I dropped over 250 pounds."

 

Ned looked at the table. 

 

“The 250 pounds was Robert.”

 

Ned nodded. He was actually blushing. "I guess our friends played a nasty trick on us. I’m sorry," he said, and he sounded so sincere that she wanted to thank him. Wanted to, but didn’t. 

 

Cersei threw some money on the table, enough to cover her bill and then some. "Good night, Ned Stark,” she said. “Don’t call me.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaking, wanted to reach for the vodka. Instead she picked up her phone again and texted him: 
> 
> Are you doing anything tonight?
> 
> She had to wait less than two minutes before he replied:
> 
> No. What’s up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This keeps getting longer. I promise smut next chapter.

To Ned’s credit, he didn’t call. Not even an apologetic text or two. Cersei appreciated a man who listened to her, but she found herself still thinking about him, about his plainly handsome face, his stupidly muscular calves, and how kind he’d been. He had probably thought she actually had wanted to listen to his dissertation about the mating habits of all rare Northern species, or else he wouldn’t have bored her with it. 

 

And she kept thinking about him all week, whenever she least expected to be. She thought memories of Robert would go along with him, but the “Ned" Robert talked about had been as much of a stupid teenage boy as Robert still was. The Ned she had met wasn't anything like that. But it didn’t really matter that some fairly attractive man was on her mind, Cersei had never let that interfere with her life before, and she wouldn’t now. 

 

Over a week after their blind date, she was genuinely looking forward to spending an evening at home, when she made the mistake of opening her phone. 

 

Robert had posted a picture, which wouldn’t have shown up on her timeline if Tyrion hadn’t liked it.  _He knew that, fuck him_. Once Cersei had seen the notification, she had to look at it, or else she would be thinking about it all night. It was a selfie of Robert standing on a beach, probably somewhere in the Summer Isles, in a garish patterned shirt and sunglasses, his brothers clearly reluctant props in his photo op.  The caption said: 

 

**_Spending time with the people who REALLY MATTER!!  #oneyearfreefromthatb*tch_ **

 

She sat on the floor. Cersei never sat on the floor, despite how immaculately clean her house was, and certainly not in her work clothes, but the liquor cabinet was within reach of that particular patch of cold tile and she thought she might need it. She forced herself to look away from her phone and just breath for a long moment. She was shaking, and wanted to reach for the vodka. Instead, she picked up her phone again. 

 

**_to: BLIND DATE_ **

****

**_Are you doing anything tonight?_ **

 

She waited less than two minutes before he replied:

 

**_No. What’s up?_ **

 

She took a deep breath. She’d done much bolder things before. She’d strung men along for months only to break their hearts. This was easy.

 

**_Do you want to come over?_ **

 

As soon as she sent the text, small grey dots appeared beneath it to show that he was typing a response. They stopped and started again a couple of times before she got a reply: 

 

**_Yeah, I would. What’s your address?_ **

 

Ned Stark showed up at her door less than an hour later, his long hair pulled back. He was wearing a pair of old denim jeans and a long-sleeved burgundy shirt that wasn’t quite long enough. When she opened the door, he was leaning against the frame, and his shirt rode up, showing a sliver of his flat, tan stomach. 

 

“Thanks for coming over on such short notice,” Cersei said, as though she’d asked him here to fix her roof. 

 

“I brought whiskey,” he said, pulling a cheap bottle out of the brown paper bag he had carried it in. “In case things are serious.”

 

She laughed. It was empty, and nothing was funny, but she couldn’t help it. 

 

She ushered him inside, and his jaw went slightly slack at the sight of her foyer and the giant staircase leading to the second floor. Good. She’d bought the place to impress.

 

“It’s the anniversary of your breakup?” he asked as he followed her into the kitchen. “That must be rough.” He sounded so painfully earnest, she was glad she’d had nothing to drink. It would have been too easy to cry otherwise. 

 

"Sit down, Ned," she said. 

 

He sat on the cushioned bench between the kitchen and the dining room. 

 

Cersei began to pace. "You told me all about yourself on our date. Now it’s time for you to listen, got it?”

 

He nodded. 

 

She tried to think of a gentler opening line, but instead burst out with, "You should know your best friend's a terrible person!” 

 

"I know,” he said, looking embarrassed again.

 

Cersei raised an eyebrow.

 

"I mean…” He shrugged. "I don’t think he’s  _terrible_ , but I… I’ve heard things from his brothers and other people about how that breakup went and… and he shouldn’t have posted that."

 

“Good,” she said, trying to hide her surprise. “Glad we’ve got that out of the way.” 

 

She wasn’t going to have a heart-to-heart with him, that wasn’t the point of this. But what was the point? Being able to comment on Robert’s stupid post: “Hi there! I just fucked your best friend within an inch of his life”? But that plan would only be truly satisfying if Ned had stood up for Robert and proved himself just as much of a douchebag. It was easy to have meaningless sex with mediocre people. This was looking more complicated.

 

“Why are you here listening to me?” Cersei said. 

 

“Cause you asked me to be.”

 

“I’m your best friend’s ex. Aren’t there bro-rules about that?” 

 

He shrugged. “I guess there are. But I didn’t go after you, and… I think there are rules Robert’s broken, too.”

 

“What do you mean by that?” 

 

“I think…” He set the bottle of whiskey down. “I wouldn’t have asked for a second date, even if you were into me, but if you did… well, I’m curious about you. And I care about Robert, I care about his wellbeing, but I don’t really care what he thinks… about this?”

 

“This isn’t another date,” Cersei said.

 

“Okay, then what is it?” 

 

Since she had realized they weren’t just going to fuck, she’d imagined quietly seducing him, leading this innocent man along by the front of his trousers until he let his worst parts get the best of him and called Robert in tears over it. But that wasn't what he'd do either, was it? 

 

She sat down on the bench beside him. There was something raw and  unpolished and so masculine about how he looked now. His beard was a little untidy, his jeans had worn through at the knees. 

 

She set one hand on his thigh. “Either we’re going to get roaring drunk and talk about all our feelings, or we’re going to have the best sex you’ve ever had." She took a deep breath. “Or first one, then the other.” 

 

He took an even deeper breath. Then he cleared his throat. “Well, if you’re asking my opinion... the best sex I’ve ever had before this was sober, and I think there’s a reason for that. So…” He met her eyes. “Let’s go straight to that." 

 

“You sure?” she said, leaning closer to him. He smelled like pine needles. “I could just be using you, you know?"

 

"Everyone gets lonely,” he said. “That doesn’t make this wrong.”

 

“I won’t hold back,” she said, feeling horribly cliche. “I want to wreck something tonight.” 

 

“Please don’t," he said. "Don’t hold back."

 

“Really?” Her heart was pounding. 

 

“Like I said...” He squeezed her hand. “Everyone gets lonely.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here there be smut

By the time they made it to Cersei's room, Ned had practically lifted her off the ground. Her blouse and his shirt were scattered on the stairs behind them, she didn’t care where. When he pressed her back against the door, she looped her legs around his waist and kicked off her heels, and when he pressed them even closer, she ran her nails down his chest, lightly at first, then, after he moaned into her mouth, harder. She let him carry her to the bed, wondering for a moment who was supposed to be wrecking whom.

 

Their hands were on each other in seconds, moving desperately. She opened his belt buckle, and he undid the clasp of her bra. She pushed down his jeans, and he kicked them off with his shoes. She opened the bedside drawer to find a condom, as he began to kiss the inside of her thigh.

 

Between the two of them, they had him inside the condom and inside her within seconds. She arched up to meet him, and for all their urgency, they started slow and steady. She let the feelings wash over her, that's what this was about, wasn't it, just feeling good with no concern for the outside world? When he brought his mouth down to kiss her breasts, her toes curled.

 

She lost track of any sense of time, but they moved from one position to the next without even having to speak about it. 

 

They ended with her straddling his lap, riding him mercilessly until he rubbed a thumb between her legs and she came harder than she had in months, shaking and almost sobbing with it, warmth bubbling up inside her and breaking in a wave. She continued riding him until he came after her, clinging tight to her as he gasped into her ear and shuddered. 

 

She rested her head on his shoulder, and they stayed that way a long time, just holding each other. The first clear thought she had was that Robert had never lasted that long, and it made her smile. 

 

The longer they sat that way, the more aware Cersei became of their sticky skin, and the more difficult it would be to find a dignified way to extricate themselves. What do you say to someone who will take your words seriously? Cersei didn’t know.

 

“Do you want me to leave?” Ned asked. 

 

“It doesn’t really matter to me,” Cersei said, but she was still a little breathless and uncertain if she pulled off the appropriate amount of casual disinterest. 

 

“I’ll stay if you want me to stay.” 

 

He was just being gentlemanly, wasn’t he? Kind for the sake of kindness? Now that he’d gone through with sleeping with his best friend’s ex, he had to be nice about it.

She supposed if that was the case, and if she gave him enough of a push to leave, he’d take the hint.

 

“Well if you want to go again, I have a fun idea,” she whispered in his ear.

 

“More fun than what we just did?”

 

"Wait here,” she said, and disentangled herself from him to walk to the drawer in her closet where she kept a variety of toys, including the strapon that she’d used with Taena and every man who had been caught in the right place between disgust and curiosity at the sight of it. 

 

If she brought that into the bedroom without any further preamble, he would blush, gather up his clothes, and politely excuse himself. And if he told his friends about their night together later on, he probably wouldn’t even be brave enough to tell anyone what about her had intimidated him. And if he didn't do that, he'd probably ask her if she was kidding and they'd both have a good laugh about it as he left. 

 

“If you’re up to it... I did promise to wreck you?” she said, letting the toy dangle from her fingers as she came back into the bedroom. 

 

Ned's eyes went wide at the sight of it, and Cersei worried for a second that she might have genuinely frightened him. She quickly banished the idea. If she had frightened him, what did it matter? What did she care? She barely knew him. 

 

He grabbed one of her pillows, held it against his chest, and turned over. “All right, let's go." 

 

She froze. She hadn't expected this. She fumbled with the straps, hoping that he was not watching her too closely. 

 

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," she said, "I did warn you." 

 

“That you did,” he said, and the words were so stilted and formal, he sounded as though he were some medieval lord and she the lady he owed his service to. 

 

"So you won't be acting like a baby over a finger or two?" She braced her arms on either side of him. 

 

He turned his head to smile up at her. "I promise I won't."

 

"Good." She could feel herself flushing, and she hoped he didn't notice.

 

"I hope you're not all talk," he said. His brown eyes took her in, and she felt warm under his gaze. Warmer than she should have been. 

 

"Settle down and you'll find out," she said. 

 

He rested his head on the pillow and closed his eyes, contented as though nothing she could do would phase him. The expression looked beautiful on him. 

 

Cersei shook her head, as if to dislodge that thought. If there was something in him, in the poorly-dressed, stupidly earnest man in her bed that was the match she had been looking for, well, that might be a dangerous thing indeed. 


End file.
